Monday, December 6, 2010

justwrite 6 december

not sure what to say about that piece there’s a puzzle but it’s been muzzled nestled in the mothballs calling out the cannons from behind the sofa and there are hopes standing out on the corner waiting for the wind to die down but it lives on and the strong bury the treasure measuring steps away imagining gold can stay buried in poetry or otherwise that’s a surprise I still haven’t read a tea leaf I haven’t brewed and the truth is a lifeline away but not the gameshow kind and not the one that palmreaders have in mind waiting to be done waiting is not the way to move forward let’s make a schedule a deal a feelgood philosophy moving upward onward toward a helicopter landing in an auspicious square the way you dare to plant something in this soil is not quite excusable really hardly usable and the temperature besides leaves something to be desired being fired without being clay leaves something to say and it’s not hello and there are mellow corners of the universe I’m drifting toward what about all those windows open into the night they are letting out the light sifting life through squares in easy-to-compare doses the movers and the shakers and the candlestick makers all those takers out doing their thing and the givers realizing shivering but with their pockets still out with their doubts still pushed aside this one won’t hurt this loan will be repaid the fading colors will return will earn interest it’s an investment and the best meant and the best believed equally deceived but this is a different chapter the laughter of those pages and the stages upon which snow falls again the scandal of a lamp post catching just the right angles down in the courtyard it isn’t hard to imagine tragedy it’s easy to freeze with eyes wide open and a mouth full of air but to compare what’s being said and what’s being heard is to notice the absurd coming in at the ears we have fears and we wrap ourselves in safety nets neglecting to remember that these are not warm but there are storms over those seas and the breeze is more than necessary the dispensary of hard knocks clocking the tower right in the face and replacing the chase with the seeking the hiding and the finding the neverminding the pleasant surprising and I wouldn’t mind subscribing to that I wouldn’t mind sitting on that quiet end of the table and learning to listen more remembering that there’s no score and it’d be easy to say that everyone wins but that’s just not the case there’s plenty left to face besides what’s in the mirror but the quieter the clearer and it’s a find I don’t mind mining in the meantime

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